


say you'll come and set me free

by sirensongs (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sirensongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is sort of an anxious mess and he's sort of immediately smitten by Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say you'll come and set me free

**Author's Note:**

> well hopefully this isn't completely awful, i really hope it isn't.. it's one of those things where it literally just sort of happened. there might be triggers for anxiety and depression it does deal with those topics.  
> and you can check me out on tumblr at http://sugarandstyles.tumblr.com ♡

Louis is a bit tired of routine. In one effort he’s actually really thrilled about routines and rules and the stability of it all but then again it’s quite boring and anti-climactic. Louis works at a grocery store and he stands on his feet for hours on end, he has to wake up and dread work whether he has it that day or the next, and he usually ends up too tired from his shift to accomplish anything after.

He finds that there are some really fun people at work but he’s not one to trust easily or to even make _friends_ much so he just keeps his smile plastered across his face and helps his fellow associates to laugh, all the while keeping to himself in some mysterious way because none of them really _know_ Louis.

Though, truthfully, Louis does have a great friend in Niall. Niall’s just busy a lot, partying and being attractive and outgoing and having a merry old time not truly having to worry much about life. It doesn’t help that Louis has terrible anxiety and has to force himself to function like the rest of society. He just is that way, really. Louis doesn’t want to accept anything from himself unless it’s perfect and he knows there’s no such thing as perfect but he still expects it, so that’s that.

One Sunday, Louis is sitting in his bedroom, sipping at his tea and scrolling down his laptop. He’s actually feeling one of those stages of depression and he’s just started a new medication and he really doesn’t want to feel suicidal but he can’t help it and he’s just trying to focus on the positives, how few there are. He has to go to work in about two hours and that makes his heart sink because he really just wants so terribly to lie down on his bed, feeling the comfort wrap around him like big, fluffy hands. He wants to cuddle his head into a mound of pillows in the dark and just sleep, sleep, sleep.

His heart is beating rapidly because it always is. He’s having a stressful day, trying to keep his mind from pestering him about uni and the payments he has to make and all of the things he has to do, etc. Louis hates anxiety because he _knows_ how irrational all of his stress, torment, and worry is. He knows he should be able to sit himself down and say to himself, ‘look, you’ve got the world at your fingertips, cheer up!’ but he knows he _can’t_ because he just isn’t that in control of his own mind. That makes him feel weak, which makes him feel more tired and his breath is a little shorter and he’s really very unhappy.

Louis watches the clock the entire morning from when he wakes up right up until he realizes it’s time to get dressed. He spends the entire day just lying there _worrying_ and anticipating the coming of the hour when he has to go to work. And so he begrudgingly gets into his car once he’s dressed, cranking it up and sliding into reverse, pulling out of the drive and trying not to frown.

He routinely checks that he’s got on his belt, his wrist watch, he makes sure his apron is in the passenger seat because he simply couldn’t walk into work and be out of dress code. He _has_ to make sure everything is absolutely perfect because if he doesn’t he just knows he’ll feel guilty about it and feel like he’s not worthy.

As he’s driving to work he tries not to glance in the mirror because he knows he has a few blemishes and he knows that his mind blows it up and he just sees this ugly, red and spotted face. He sees every miniscule little remnant of hair he missed while shaving, every insanely tiny hair between his eyebrows. That’s just part of it, part of his self deprecating mental disorder. He hates himself, he really does.

Niall is texting Louis and asking him to hang out after he gets off work and Louis feels really awful because he loves Niall, he’s a good friend but he just isn’t up to it. He just _can’t_ manage to do something after he gets off, he knows that. He’ll be exhausted and he’ll need to go home and sleep before his morning shift. So he tells Niall he just really can’t because he has to work in the morning and he apologizes and tells him they’ll hang out soon. Soon is always Louis’ response to people wanting to see him. He might not have debilitating social anxiety but there’s a fear of judgment and failure so strong that it often times keeps Louis in his bedroom while his friends party.

Louis pulls into the parking lot, he’s always around eight minutes early and so he sits in his car, unbuckling and throwing the apron over his head, tying it around  his stomach. He pulls down the mirror and acts like he’s getting ready to go inside when really he’s already ready, of course, and he’s just listening to the music in his car and avoiding going in any earlier than he has to.

And when Louis finally goes inside it’s a dramatic change and he’s smiling, grinning even, waving to all the old ladies and asking them how they’re doing, and when they ask him how he’s doing he says he’s doing very well, thank you. Louis smiles to all his co-workers, laughing and he’s just a hundred percent sure he’s fooled everyone because he’s already been promoted twice within the customer service department (well, the second promotion is in the works, literally days away). He’s not even really happy to be there, not happy to be interacting with people, not happy to be _alive_ , sad as it is. But he’s a master of disguise, a master at hiding his pain and vulnerability from everyone. (Except his psychologist and psychiatrist, he’s finally found acceptable doctors who he feels comfortable speaking with.)

Louis is standing behind a register because that’s what they’ve got him doing, standing there, feet aching, for four hours. Then he’ll go on his break and then he’ll go back to another register and he’ll stand there for three hours and then he’ll go home.

And Louis is driving home, he’s listening to some wails from Florence Welch and he’s captivated by her ability to communicate her feelings so beautifully. That’s what Louis does, too, he writes. And he wants to be a writer, he thinks maybe someday he will be. Even his mother has finally given into the idea, telling her son that he’s got to do what pleases him and what he’s good at. And Louis’ mother is one of those who’s tough to please, not because she’s evil, simply because she knows how great Louis can be. So he feels confident that _maybe_ one day he can touch peoples’ hearts through his writing. And if he can’t, he’ll be quite disappointed.

Louis unlocks the door, stepping inside and locking it behind him. He flicks off the porch light and looks down the hallway to see that his mother and stepfather are asleep. Judging by how quiet the house is, Louis knows his sisters are asleep as well. He makes his way into the kitchen, trying not to be too loud and he sets his keys down on the counter because he really doesn’t need them jingling about anymore. He pours himself some milk and he eats a few cookies coated with Nutella.

Then Louis walks back into his room, kicking off his shoes and turning his nose up at the smell. He slips into pajama bottoms and a big t-shirt, settling into a hoodie and then curling up in bed with a book. He owns at least three hundred books of his own, stuffed into multiple bookshelves and under his bed and in his closet and in random drawers. That night he’s got Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children and he’s not terribly far in it yet because he’s got those stupid racing thoughts that come with anxiety but he tries his best to just stay calm and focus on the book and before he knows it he’s clicking off the lamp by his bed with heavy eyes and he’s asleep. And as he falls asleep he hopes he can just get a good night’s rest without any form of sleepwalking, no waking up howling like a banshee, no springing up and looking at the clock to be sure he wasn’t late for work.

And that’s Louis’ life. He’s used to it and he accepts it (acceptance might be a stretch).

 

 ♡

Louis is happy once he has two days off in a row. This is always a blissful experience because when he just has one day off he tends to spend it thinking about work the next day. When he’s got two days off he can spend the first day utterly pleased with the time and he knows he’ll be off the next day, too. He always tries to sleep in on his days off and he tries to accomplish things as he’s able to. Fatigue often gets the better of him by mid-day and he’s back asleep. Just a result of the chronic depression, dysthymia, as he remembers, and he realizes that’s due to anxiety and every day he just hopes the medicine is slowly working.

So Louis is off, and he’s got the next day off, too. He’s not finished with Peregrine’s yet but he decides he’ll go to Waterstone’s, because why not, really?  He decides he doesn’t mind spending the money on fuel and he gets dressed simply in a crisp white button down, securing the top button and slipping over a navy cable knit sweater. He preferred to look rather plain, just attracting enough attention to maybe lure in a cute boy. Though that idea is laughable to Louis, really.

He’s wearing some skinny khaki chinos and grey plimsols, even a little coat over his whole ensemble. It’s quite cold for a day towards the end of August.

Louis walks into the shop, seeing a really cute boy who’s tall and he’s got these striking eyes. He smiles at Louis and asks him how he’s doing and Louis says he’s doing well, thank you. He’s putting some books away so Louis knows he works there and he feels stupid for even for a split second thinking the boy’s interested in him. Then again, Louis knows _he_ does personally take a bit more time to greet the more attractive customers and so maybe he _is_ interested but then again Louis knows he’s not that attractive and so he just makes his way to an aisle where he can tuck himself in and feel alone for a moment.

The Mythology books always catch Louis’ attention and he’s conveniently placed right in front of them all. He’s browsing them, letting his fingers trace the spines of several titles when he sees the tall and handsome boy in the corner of his eye. He’s walking toward Louis and he feels his breath hitch because this is the part where he engages in conversation and they exchange numbers, he’s seen it happen so many times and he’s never really felt this jittery about it happening to him because it’s never really been an issue.

Louis flicks a stray hair from his forehead and looks over to the boy, his lips tightly pursing into a smile and then he realizes the boy stops a bit short, looking past Louis and then looking down at his hand and Louis sees he’s got a book and he’s feeling utterly disappointed as the boy finds where it goes, stuffs it in its place and then sets back off.

That’s not going to make too much of a dent in Louis’ day because he’s used to that whole thing. He’s had guys who were interested in him before but they were never really the guys who made you stop in your tracks and admire them like Olympians or anything.

This boy who kept taunting Louis, walking by and putting books back, he has this nice hair and these big hands. He should be put away for being so good looking. Of course, after some time of looking Louis sees that the boy has a ring on his wedding finger and so Louis simply scoffs quietly to himself, thumbing through the pages of a book on Celtic Lore.

“Louis!” Louis is turning to match the voice to a face and he sees that lovely lad who was in one of his philosophy classes. He’s clad in leather, a jacket clinging to his body and defending him from any chilly weather. His legs are long in their jeans and his slick black hair seems to bounce ever so slightly with each step.

“Zayn!” Louis turns on the charm because he’s Louis and that’s what he does. He smiles, his face lighting up for Zayn like he’s the only person he’d ever want to see. “How are you?” He and Zayn have only worked together a few times and Zayn added Louis on Facebook and Louis knew it was _just_ a friendly thing because Zayn had a boyfriend and so Louis was friendly and he didn’t allow himself to even _consider_ Zayn in any romantic sense. He just didn’t seem to put the effort into making their friendship much stronger and so he’s standing there, recounting their last conversation in his head.

Zayn smiles at Louis, he’s clutching a tiny paperback book and he sighs. “Well, just getting ready to go back to uni. Changed the availability at the ole job and now I’m back to the educational grind.”

“Good, good.” Louis feels hot inside because he really doesn’t want to sound stupid or anything and he wants to seem interested, he is interested, but he doesn’t know what to say. “Registered, then?”

“Oh, of course!” Zayn seems to laugh at this as though it was a joke and so Louis laughs along with him. “What are you taking this term?”

“Some foreign cultures courses for the major,” Louis says dryly. “I’m not particularly looking forward to it.”

Zayn raises a brow, “You’re brilliant, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Louis wonders if Zayn means that and then he realizes he probably does. Zayn was always thankful for Louis’ help on assignments in Philosophy and he probably thinks that just from that class Louis is some sort of brilliant master of the educational system. In reality Louis is brilliant but he’s also, of course, terribly ridden with anxiety that impairs his ability to focus and muster up the energy to really balance school with other obligations and so his grades sometimes slip. Not so much because he’s stupid but because sometimes he just _can’t_ put the energy or time into it.

“Thanks, thanks,” Louis stares down at the ground, a grin stuck across his face. He’s about to ask Zayn what classes he’s signed up for when he’s interrupted.

“Zayn—” A sort of husky, deep and fluid voice crawls around the corner and meets Louis directly with bright green eyes and ridiculously pink lips. This boy who’s just come round the corner has awful curls that are pulled back behind a beanie and Louis feels sort of shocked because he’s never been this affected by someone just because of how they look. He’s really spectacularly gorgeous, his hands are large and they’re holding up a few books each, he’s balancing them well and his eyes sort of seem to fall from a brightness to a dim stare as he sees Louis.

Louis doesn’t want to keep staring— rather, he shouldn’t keep staring—but he just is sure he’s completely comprehended the scene in front of him, this tall, lanky boy with nice cheekbones and really lean legs that bring him closer to Zayn incredibly fast, this boy is real. He’s standing there in a black jacket, green plaid shirt and dark pants. Louis looks to Zayn to see what the response is.

“Oh, hey, Harry—” Louis takes a mental note that it’s not Zayn’s boyfriend because he knows Zayn’s boyfriend’s name and he can’t think of it in that instant but it’s not Harry. Unless he’s got a new boyfriend. Louis is relatively certain this boy isn’t Zayn’s boyfriend. That sort of makes Louis’ heart race because if this boy isn’t Zayn’s boyfriend, he’s hanging out with Zayn who’s openly gay and, not to stereotype, Louis hasn’t encountered _that many_ straight guys who hang around with gay guys and so he sort of has this instant mental click where he thinks to himself that Harry must be gay. He does look a bit less than straight, too, and Louis thinks he’s qualified to make that decision without it being rude.

“Harry, this is Louis!” Zayn is showing Harry Louis like he’s some sort of prized possession, he’s beaming and Louis is standing there, eyes probably wide and shaped like hearts and he’s holding a book on Celtic Mythology and he probably looks weird and so he doesn’t know what to do but he settles for:

“Hi,” and he’s shutting the book, quickly shoving it back on the shelf and stepping closer to Zayn and Harry, hoping they don’t judge him for being such a nerd.

Harry’s then shuffling his books all onto one hand, in an awkward gesture and the one hand that’s holding all the books clearly cannot support the weight and Harry’s sticking out his free hand for Louis to shake but before Louis can shake it, Harry’s yanking it back in an attempt to catch the books that have lost balance and are cascading down onto the ground with a thud. “Oops,” Harry mumbles, his face turning a hot scarlet and Louis is bending down to help him pick them up.

“Thanks,” Harry says as they’re standing up again and he’s looking Louis in the eye and he’s got the books equally distributed in his hands so that he shouldn’t drop them this time. Louis is sort of relieved because as much as he’d like to shake Harry’s hand he’s pretty sure his own is clammy and he doesn’t want to gross Harry out.

“Louis was in my Philosophy and Biology classes,” Zayn says and Louis’ eyes threaten to go wide because he doesn’t remember Zayn being in his Biology class but then again he really did a phenomenal job of keeping to himself in that class and that was the term before Philosophy anyway so it was a while ago. “A freaking modern day Einstein.”

“Oh, stop,” Louis hushes him, face pink as a rose and his mouth curled into a stupid smile.

Louis’ eyes dart back to the ground but Harry’s honey like voice is distracting him again, pulling him back into the mix. “What are you studying to be?” And Harry had to go and ask the most complicated question that Louis doesn’t quite know how to answer and the one that probably gives him the most anxiety.

“I don’t really know is the problem,” Louis admits haphazardly. “I fancied becoming a psychiatrist for the longest time but I’ve settled on English. I’ll hope to work in publishing, I’d like to be a writer one day as stupid as that sounds.” Louis questions every word though he knows himself well enough to know he’s loquacious when he has to be and he doesn’t sound like a _complete_ ass.

“If you’re as brilliant as Zayn says I’ll bet you can do it,” Harry is giving Louis a _stupid_ smile and Louis thinks his face is probably rivaling a tomato in color.

Louis’ face is burning and he nods, “Thanks, thanks. What about you?”

“Just starting for Law,” Harry says and so Louis is impressed because that certainly does take a certain type of person and Harry himself must be quite intelligent, though he could tell by speaking with him.

“That’s impressive!” Louis is milking it a bit much, he thinks, he hopes it is his anxiety bothering him and that he doesn’t sound forced. Harry seems to buy it and he’s thanking him.

Zayn nods, “Well, Louis, we’ll let you get back to your shopping. Just thought I’d say hello! Hope to see you round campus.”

“Of course, of course, it was great to see you!” He isn’t feeling completely drained from this social encounter, in fact it’s sort of given him a burst of energy. He’s only sad now because this beautiful being called Harry is going to go away. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“ _Lovely_ to meet you, Louis,” Harry smiles sweetly and it sort of hurts Louis’ heart because he’s so much like one of those adorable little pastries you see in the windows of posh bakeries or maybe he’s more like a puppy or even a kitten. Louis isn’t quite sure what Harry is but he’s something sort of magical. “I would give you a proper handshake but we saw how well that went last time.”

Louis chuckles softly, “That’s all right, next time, next time.”

With that the boys are setting off and Louis is left in silence, looking at the spines of books in front of him and he’s thinking to himself. Louis does this, he goes over every single detail of the conversation and wishes he hadn’t said this or he’d said that. It’s just part of him.  

 

 ♡

That night Louis is sitting with his mother and sisters in the living room, he’s sipping tea and he’s scrolling through Tumblr on his phone and he’s half tuned in to the home renovation show his mum has on the television in front of him. His heart nearly stops when he sees a notification register across the top of his phone. A blue ‘F’ icon sits next to a set of text that reads, explicitly and without a means for misunderstanding:

_Harry Styles added you as a friend._

Louis’ heart starts beating fast again because Harry found him on Facebook and added him. He didn’t have to do that at all and they’d only briefly chatted so it wouldn’t have seemed like a likely occurrence.

He doesn’t know how it happened but he’s leaving his house because Harry Styles, ever so charming and proactive, sent him a message saying he should come out to this party and that Zayn and Liam will be there and so Louis decides he and Niall _will_ go and sure it’s already causing Louis to have a quasi-panic attack but he’ll get to see Harry and for some odd reason he does, indeed, want to see Harry.

Louis picks up Niall from his house and Niall’s wearing some ridiculous sweater with a pug on it and he’s got a bottle of vodka in his hand. “We’re gettin’ drunk!” He hollers as he gets into Louis’ passenger seat.

“Niall!” Louis cackles, “We can’t!  I can’t get drunk, I’m driving us home. And I don’t want Harry to think I’m a twat.” Louis conveniently told Niall about Harry when he called to ask him if he’d go to the party with him. Niall was _always_ down for a party and so Louis knew he was the prime candidate for a wingman. Louis was always all right at parties but he didn’t make much of an effort to go to any, only if Niall dragged him along.

Niall is cranking up some Zedd on Louis’ radio and Louis grips the steering wheel, trying his best to just focus on the road and not scream because the music is distracting him and Niall’s doing shots and he’s worried about seeing Harry because maybe he looks ugly or maybe he’ll say something stupid.

Louis and Niall arrive at the party and it’s sort of insane, not anything too grand or ostentatious but it’s a house party in a little suburban number and Louis recognizes a lot of these people from uni and that makes him a bit uncomfortable because that means he’s going to be stuck socializing with some of them if they catch eyes with him. Louis, socially anxious as he is, always has no trouble making a conversation work if he has to and so in many of his classes he’d made acquaintances with whom he’d had no intention of becoming further friends with. He isn’t a mean person but, again, trust issues.

Harry’s thread of text messages blares on Louis’ phone. Louis types out a quick, ‘we’re here!’ and looks around to see if he notices Harry or Zayn. Niall is already a little bit tipsy, Louis thinks, and he’s laughing at something on his phone as they stand awkwardly in the foyer.

“Louis!” And Louis thanks each and every God he’s aware of because he hears Harry’s voice over the music and he can actually feel a huge hand on his arm so he turns around and, okay, Harry’s a hugger. He’s pulling Louis into a huge hug and holding him tightly and Louis does quite like that.

“Quite a get together!” Louis manages, not knowing what to say or how to say it and he’s standing a bit stiffly. He looks to Harry sincerely, “I honestly can’t stay too late,” he knows it sounds juvenile and it’s actually quite idiotic of him because he could spend all night with Harry if Harry wanted but his social anxiety is already draining him of the will to be at this party and he’s yearning for the comfort of his bed. “This is Niall,” he says, gesturing to the blonde who’s waving and smiling like an idiot.

Niall seems unexplainably cheerful, “Hi, Harry!”

“Hi!” Harry says with a laugh. Zayn and Liam emerge from behind Harry and Zayn’s hugging Louis, greeting him and saying he’s glad that Louis came and Louis is introducing Niall to them again and Niall is having a giddy ole time. Then Liam and Zayn sort of kidnap Niall; Harry and Louis are standing, alone, just sort of looking around at the party for a few moments before Harry snaps to. “So, Louis, I’m glad you could make it!”

“Me too,” Louis is partially lying because he’s actually really tired and nervous but at the same time this gorgeous boy is standing in front of him and he’s actually too good to be true. “So whose party is this..?”

“Erm, it’s this girl’s— Louise, I reckon,” he shrugs. “Zayn’s friend and he dragged me. Says I need to try and meet someone.”

Louis laughs into his hand, “Oh, well I’m keeping you from it, aren’t I? I saw a really gorgeous brunette, just skipped past, actually.”

Harry seems amused, his eyes are shut and he’s brought his fingers to his temple, smiling really wide before giggling. “I’m not interested in girls, Louis.” He says it and Louis feels stupid because Louis _knew_ that, he could pretty much safely assume that, but he had to be sure.

“Oh, sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize.” Louis blushes and turns away briefly.

“Well, no, that’s okay,” Harry is comforting and he somehow draws Louis’ eyes to his own. “That’s why I invited you tonight. I think you’re pretty cute,” he seems to be really unsure of himself while at the same time there’s a conviction in the way he’s fighting his inhibitions to say this and so Louis only _really_ turns beet red and then nods.

“Thank you,” he says dumbly. “I’m not used to that,” he admits and he doesn’t know why he says that but it’s just the first thing he thought of. “I think you’re very handsome as well, Harry.” That takes a lot but he means it.

A few seconds pass that feel like years before Harry smiles, “So I know we haven’t even said goodbye tonight yet... But, well, would you want to hang out tomorrow?”

“I’m off tomorrow,” Louis says mostly to himself. On his days off he does prefer to spend most of his time alone and in his bedroom but he’s thinking, thinking, thinking and he sees this really nice boy before him asking him to hang out and it won’t kill him and he actually sort of _wants_ to hang out with him so he nods. “I’d love to.”

“Brilliant,” Harry smiles. "So it's a date.." And Louis sees him sort of checking to see if he'll agree.

"It's a date," Louis leers. And with a grun Harry gestures down the hallway and Louis follows him, not knowing where they’re going but seeing some glimmer of happiness in Harry’s eyes that keeps him captivated.

Louis and Harry spend the night chatting about stupid things, Harry offers Louis a drink but he respectfully agrees that Louis shouldn’t drink if he’s driving home. They discuss their favorite movies and their favorite music and those sorts of things and then Louis realizes, honestly, he should be heading home. He knows he can’t possibly stand to hang out with Harry the next day if he doesn’t get some proper sleep.

Harry seems sad to see Louis leave and Louis is happy to have spent the night with such great company. Niall is finally rounded up and stuffed into Louis’ car and he’s drunk and babbling and Louis just smiles to himself.

 

 ♡

Louis wakes up and he is instantly wishing he didn’t. He feels nervous, jittery, tense and he’s not quite sure if he can do this whole _date_ thing. But he gets up anyway, and he knows Harry wants to meet him by noon and that he can and will have a good time so he gets himself dressed. He’s just wearing a casual outfit, jeans and a purple sweater over a navy button down, a silver watch on his wrist in case he needs to ease his anxiety over the time.

Harry’s standing by a tree in the park, staring down at his phone and Louis wonders if he’s been looking up to check often because their eyes catch and Harry’s smiling, starting to walk toward Louis.

“So glad you could make it,” Harry chirps as if he’s the happiest he’s ever been.

“Oh, of course!” Louis smiles, he’s shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets and he’s rocking on his heels as he and Harry stand beneath the greens.

Harry rubs at the back of his head, his jaw dropping and he looks around for a moment. “So... I... Uh, we could... We could...” He’s struggling, which Louis thinks is weird because Harry has this sort of way about him and he wasn’t very shy before. “Or we could...”

“Yeah, either one!” Louis laughs, pulling his hands out of his coat pocket and gesturing back behind him. “How about lunch? At the cafe across the street?”

This makes Harry smile, “Yes, sure, lunch sounds perfect.”

Louis agrees, oddly because he does have a finicky appetite. They walk back together slowly and Harry doesn’t even say anything. This must be the result of some labeling fears, commitment or something, Louis figures, because Harry did exceptionally well as a charmer _before_ they were classified as being on a date and now that they’re together and walking to lunch Harry has frozen up.

“So you want to work in publishing?” Harry manages as they stop at the crosswalk and wait for the cars to buzz by.

“Yes,” Louis says, exuberant because Harry filled the silence. “I mean it’s far off but I’m a pretty hard worker, I think.”

Harry nods, “And a genius as Zayn says.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” Louis gushes, “I’m not all that.”

“You are,” Harry assures him. “I can tell you are.” Another awkward silence as Louis brushes away hair from his forehead and watches the pavement, a childish grin consuming him. “Well do you write a lot now? Any novels or anything?”

Louis feels so genuinely pleased that Harry’s interested. He’s listened from the beginning and Louis just isn’t quite used to that. “One novel but it’s rubbish. I mostly just write a lot of short stories and things like that.”

They cross the street and they’re at the door, Harry’s opening it and letting Louis in. “I’m sure your novel is _not_ rubbish. Could I read it sometime?” His lips are really soft looking, Louis thinks.

“Maybe, maybe,” Louis says with a teasing smirk. He can’t let Harry read his stupid attempt at a novel, though, because as good or bad as it may be, he’s only received positive feedback from his family members and so it might be utter crap and then his merit as a writer will be botched.

Harry nods, “Fair enough, fair enough.” He even pulls out Louis’ seat for him.

“You’re studying to be a lawyer?” Louis inquires.

“Indeed I am,” Harry seems really proud of this and Louis thinks that’s adorable so he presses on:

“What made you decide to pursue that?”

Harry shrugs and they’re sitting down at a little round wooden table, Harry’s iPhone is face up on the napkin and so it’s not Louis’ fault he looks at it as it illuminates and vibrates and the name ‘Ethan’ pops up on the screen, right? He feels a little bit of discontentment as he sees it and he sees Harry nervously lock the phone, ignoring the call. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” Louis smiles. The waitress comes over and takes their drink orders and Louis suddenly is ridden with anxiety because, _of course_ , Harry is a smooth talker and he’s charming and attractive and _of course_ he’s talking to more than one guy. Louis feels so stupid for believing maybe he could be special.

Just as he’s feeling as stupid as ever, Ethan calls again and Harry’s locking the screen again and he’s laughing it off, “Anyway!” He just takes a sip of his drink as it’s brought to him. “I think law’s really interesting and I think it’s something I’ll do well in.”

Louis is thankful because Ethan doesn’t call again.

They’re walking down the street after their lunch and it did go surprisingly well but Louis still has that instinctual feeling that he’s in the presence of a player, a boy who can have anyone he wants and who, more importantly, _does_.

“Ice cream?” Harry offers and he’s fiddling with his phone and Louis wishes he does and he sees that Harry’s texting _Graham_. Louis feels a pang of guilt inside of him and he knows he should just go, should spare himself, but he is really torn because of the bright green of Harry’s eyes and the warmth in his smile and the tiny bit of hope Louis has that maybe those guys are just Harry’s friends.

“Sounds lovely,” Louis agrees.

Before he knows it he’s sitting with Harry on a little bench and they can hear birds and cars, children and their mothers, and they’re laughing about a stupid knock-knock joke Harry told. “I’m really having a great time, Louis.” Harry says as he settles from their laugh.

“I am too,” says Louis before having a spoonful of ice cream. Pistachio because that’s his favorite and Harry paid for his lunch _and_ his ice cream, Louis tried to say no but Harry insisted. He sits there watching the traffic pass and Harry’s typing away on his phone to Michael (really, Louis knows he shouldn’t keep looking) so Louis sighs dramatically, glancing down at his watch and then holding his arm up as if to show Harry. “Oh, wow, I really actually have to get going.” He doesn’t.

“Are you sure?”

He’s not. “I’m sure. I have to babysit for my mum.”“Oh, okay.” Harry can obviously sense the awkwardness in this and so Louis stands, Harry following in the gesture. “Well...” He seems disappointed.

“Yeah, all right, this was great!” Louis squeaks. “I’ll text you, or call you?”

 

 ♡

And Louis doesn’t text or call Harry. He feels utterly weak and disappointed in himself. Of course it’s stupid, of course it’s idiotic. Louis knows he probably just overreacted and he probably had no grounds to end the date but by the time he fully agrees with himself on that account he feels humiliated and like a complete twat. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can do, no way to explain himself. What would he say? “I’m so sorry, I was under the impression that you were playing me but now I realize it’s all a figment of my anxiety and it was stupid, forgive me?” That just wouldn’t work.

Plus it’s been six days and Harry hasn’t called him or texted him so he probably has already moved on to someone way more attractive and just all around better. Louis is great at beating himself up over things, really, he is.

Then one evening Louis gets a burst of gusto and he feels _really_ nervous but he’s getting wine and going over to Harry’s. He’s doing it to try and make it up to Harry for his freak-out and he plans to explain his anxiety and the whole stupid thing and he knows it might sound crazy but Harry told Zayn who told Liam who told Niall that he really likes Louis and he’s upset that Louis won’t call him and Niall also finds out that there are no other men in Harry’s life and so Louis thinks, A) Harry _could_ call him but then again Louis isn’t really in the place to judge since he basically ended the date on a terrible note for no _real_ reason. And Louis also thinks, B) just calling Harry would be great but why not try and at least make a slight effort?

As Louis parks his car in the driveway of the address Niall gave him he feels slight (immense) panic for a few reasons: this might not even be the right house, Harry might not be home, Harry might not want to see him, or any number of other terrible awful things. Perhaps this whole romantic idea is best suited for movies, Louis thinks, and for a second he contemplates turning back around and just calling the younger boy. He reminds himself, though, of the meaning behind the gesture and the purpose of it all and so he regains his focus.

Louis steps out of his car and makes his way up the drive and he’s trying his absolute best not to be a complete mess of nerves. He’s clutching this brown bag full of wine and cheese and chocolates and things he thinks Harry would like and he finally gets to the door, raising his fist and drops it, not sure if Harry’s mum will answer or if it’s just Harry and he realizes this was _not_ well thought out at all. The lights are on inside, though, and he can hear some music so Louis raises his fist again and this time a small echo of bone vs. wood creates a knock.

A few moments pass before Harry is standing at the door, all disheveled and perfectly _Harry_.

“Hi, surprise!” Louis laughs nervously, “I was just at home and thinking I, you know, owed you an explanation for the other day because I do think you’re really great and I really wanted to—” Louis realizes Harry seems a bit distracted and he hears the clinking of some glass in the background. “Oh, oh my god, you’re— you’re not alone, are you?”

“No,” Harry sighs, “No, I’m not. I’m sorry, I—”

Louis laughs, waving his hand and shaking his head, “No! Don’t be sorry, oh my god, seriously, it’s fine, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shown up here, you know, it was just me being stupid, I’ll go!”

Before Louis can leave the door is being pulled open and a little boy is standing there, tugging at Harry’s sleeve. Louis’ eyes widen as the boy asks Harry who’s standing at the door.

“This is Louis,” Harry says, a strained look about his face and he seems almost apologetic to Louis. “Louis this is Ethan.” He gives an awkward smile and Ethan is waving to Louis.

“Pleasure to meet you, Louis.” Ethan hands out his hand for Louis to shake. Stunned, Louis accepts and he’s not quite sure what to think of all of this but before he can ask another little boy, a bit older, runs out and is standing on the other side of Harry, also asking who’s come to see them.

Harry exhales, “This is Louis,” he says again. “Louis, this is Graham.”

“Hi, Graham.” Louis says, and then in a split moment it all occurs to him. “Oh. Ethan and Graham!” A wave of relief floods over him but then he’s faced with this weird reality where he’s standing in Harry’s doorway and Harry’s standing there with two _kids_.

“I’m a nanny,” Harry says with a laugh. “Monday through Friday and some evenings.”

“Come inside!” Graham insists, taking Louis by the hand. “We’ve got cookies, Harry’s made the _best_ cookies.”

As Louis takes off his coat and the children run off with the brown bag of goodies he turns to Harry. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a nanny?”

“Well I was trying my best to _impress_ you,” Harry shrugged. “Anyway I was sure you didn’t like me after that date...”

Louis sighs, “I’m really, really sorry about that. Honestly, I am. I just have this stupid anxiety and you know, getting close to people is sort of hard for me, trust and whatnot and I guess I got a little scared and it was dumb. Can you forgive me? I had a great time, Harry.”

“I forgive you,” Harry beams. “You should try and trust me, though, all right? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything.” He and Louis stand in a bit of silence and then the kids are running back into the room.

“It’s a bit of luck you caught me tonight,” Harry admits. “I’m usually over at theirs when I watch them. Mum’s out of town though so I figured I’d bring them back here, change things up a bit. Their parents are having date night,” Harry smirks.

“Well I’m glad I did catch you,” says Louis. “And anyway I think being a nanny is very impressive.”

Harry glows at that.

And after an evening of board games with Harry, Graham, and Ethan, Louis tells Harry that it’s getting late and he should be getting back. Not before, of course, Louis feels sincerely stupid as Harry gets a call from Michael and he tells Louis the boys’ father is calling.

“It was lovely to have you over, the boys love you.” Harry grins, following Louis to the front door.

“It was lovely to see you, Harry,” says Louis and as he steps past the threshold Harry is right behind him.

The boy, all tall and cinnamon smells, smiles gingerly before placing a hand on Louis’ cheek and leaning in for a kiss. “Is that all right?” He asks, stepping back ever so slightly just to be sure.

Louis looks up into Harry’s eyes, a brief nod ensuing before he and Harry’s lips mesh again into a soft combination of affection. Their kiss feels natural and somewhat electrifying, it’s like a kiss Louis only thought happened in movies but it’s real and very sweet like berries and sugar.

“I’ll text you, or call you?” Louis says as their kiss breaks and he’s dangling his keys by his side. “Mean it this time.” He says with a sinister little smirk. Harry waves and blows him kisses with his own devilish little grin and for the first time, as Louis drives home and listens to the classical Pandora station he can’t feel that swelling pain or emptiness inside his chest and he knows this temporary relief is just that; temporary. He knows his problems are genetic and chronic and he’ll have to deal with his anxiety and OCD and depression for as long as he can imagine but for some reason he’s okay with just feeling _happy_ in this moment because he knows now, when everything seems like it’s dark and sad, he’s got Harry. 


End file.
